


The Weather Outside Is Frightful

by kinderjedi



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5610091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinderjedi/pseuds/kinderjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim needs a little TLC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weather Outside Is Frightful

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winterover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterover/gifts).



> Technically speaking this was not among your requests, but I'm filing it under "ohai." <3

“Come on, up you get.” Leonard reached down, helping Jim slide out of the car and stand on wobbly legs. His arm snaked securely around Jim’s waist, guiding him out of the way so he could get the door shut before leading him inside. 

Their progress was slow. Jim was drugged to the gills, his arm in its brand new cast tucked close to his chest in a sling. It took an excruciating amount of time for Leonard to get him up the stairs to the apartment. Somewhere around the fifth step, Jim started feeling dizzy and nauseous from the bump on his head and the medicine running through his veins. By the time Leonard had him safely inside and deposited on the couch Jim was pale and clammy. He watched as Jim leaned back into the cushions, closing his eyes as he tried to get comfortable without jarring his arm.

“Be still a minute,” Leonard told him, then disappeared down the hall. He returned quickly with a cool cloth. Kneeling down, he pulled Jim’s coat and shoes off and helped him lie down on the couch, tucking a pillow behind his head and another beneath his broken arm. He bathed Jim’s face with the folded cloth before leaving it on his forehead. “Better?”

“Yeah,” Jim managed, his voice small. “Hate that stuff… always makes me sick.” He was somehow even paler than usual; white as a sheet, Leonard thought. It was appropriate, however tired the phrase. 

“No worries,” Leonard told him, his voice soothing as he stroked that wild, sun streaked hair, carefully skirting the knot that was already turning purple and blue. “You broke your arm in two places. I’d say this is still probably better than having that set with nothing at all.” He reached up to pull the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over Jim’s legs. “Thankfully you’re pretty damn hard-headed, darlin’, so the arm’s the worst of the damage.”

Leonard had intended to put him to bed when they got in, but he decided that with the way Jim looked right now, bed could wait until he was feeling a little better. He brushed his fingers over Jim’s uninjured arm, glad to see that his breathing had already begun to even out.

“You just get some rest, darlin’,” he murmured. “I’m going to run down and get your prescription out of the car. I’ll be right back, okay?” Jim made a little noise that Leonard took for acknowledgement, his brow furrowed as he fought the dizziness. 

The trip down to the car was quick. Even so, when Leonard let himself back in a few minutes later carrying the bag from the pharmacy, Jim was already half asleep. He was restless, mumbling unintelligible things, occasionally letting out a grunt of pain when he tried to move and bumped his arm. Even on the hard stuff, Leonard figured, a broken bone was not pleasant. He examined the discharge instructions from the hospital, then the bottle of pills prescribed for Jim, checking when he could begin taking them. When the IV stuff wore off Jim was going to be miserable, at least for the first day or two.

It was a couple hours later when Jim woke up. Leonard was sitting in a chair across from him, paging through one of the dozens of classics Jim kept on the bookshelves lining one entire wall of the living room. Not for show; no, each one was well-loved, some of the more dilapidated copies dating back to college or maybe even high school, with notes scribbled in Jim’s distinctive scrawl in the margins.

He looked up when he heard the low, rumbling groan from the sofa. “You okay?” Leonard asked, putting the book down and going over to perch on the coffee table across from Jim. He reached out, brushing a hand over his forehead. “You’re not quite so green,” he teased. Jim still looked pale and groggy, but his mouth quirked up a little at that.

“I’m not as dizzy,” Jim confirmed. His voice was a little stronger, if rough from sleep. He swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and began to sit up but hissed at the pain in his arm. Leonard reached out to steady him.

“Easy does it,” he told Jim. “Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe some ginger ale,” Jim requested, pulling the pillows over to cushion his arm.  
Leonard went into the kitchen and filled a small glass with ice and ginger ale, adding a straw before he brought it back into the living room and handed it to Jim, who murmured a quiet thank you. Leonard sat down next to him on the sofa, carefully sliding an arm around Jim, pleased when he leaned against him. It was rare that Jim was so still, and Leonard reached up to stroke his hair with gentle fingers. 

“What do you feel like now? Think you can sleep some more?” Jim was still groggy, Leonard noticed, his eyelids drooping heavily. He took the empty glass from Jim and set it aside, then brushed a soft kiss to his temple.

Jim nodded. “I should probably get these contacts out before I sleep again.” He slid to the edge of the sofa, standing up with Leonard’s help.

“Okay.” Leonard kept a hand on Jim’s back as they walked into the bathroom. “Can you manage?” He waited as Jim painstakingly took out the contacts and threw them away.

“I’ll need help with this,” Jim admitted, trying to peel off his t-shirt with little success. The flannel shirt he had been wearing over it was still in the car, discarded because the arm wouldn’t fit over Jim’s cast.

Leonard smiled, guiding Jim over to the bed before removing the sling and catching the hem of Jim’s t-shirt, working it carefully over his head and off. Once Jim was stripped down to his boxers, Leonard tucked him in bed with an extra pillow propping up his arm. “Better?” he asked, his fingers stroking Jim’s cheekbone.

“Yeah.” Jim yawned, already half-asleep. “Even better if you sleep, too. S’been a long day for both of us.”

“I could do with a nap,” Leonard agreed. The call from Christine had been hours ago. When he got it, Leonard had excused himself from a surgical consultation and charged down to the ER, taking the stairs at a dead run instead of waiting for the creaky old elevators the hospital board never got around to approving replacements for. The car accident wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, but black ice was scary shit and Jim had been transported for x-rays.

Getting down to the ER had seemed to take forever, the worry leaving him on edge by the time he found which exam room Jim was in. Leonard was relieved, so relieved, to find Jim was okay and that it was just a broken arm and a nasty bump on the head. The drive home had been nerve-wracking, snow falling while Jim dozed or was ill the entire way, every bump or pothole or skid on a slippery patch jarring his arm painfully.

But they were home safe. Leonard shucked his pants and shirt off and slid onto the other side of the bed, curling up against Jim’ good side and trying not to jostle him too much. It made him smile when Jim reached out, urging Leonard to rest his head on his shoulder. Leonard pulled the covers up over them both, sighing as the worry and fear began to ease at last.


End file.
